Ed Engle remains one of my favorite fly fishing writers, in part because he’s pretty damn good at cutting right to the chase.
In a recent Boulder Daily Camera outdoors column, he dives into the concept of home waters, a matter near and dear to my heart:
If you did occasionally travel to a different river or stream and run into a fly-fisherman, he might inquire where your home water was. In my case I’d say, “I’m Ed Engle, and the South Platte River is my home water.” He might have already known its reputation as a “technical” small fly-fishery with a lot of history or, if he didn’t, I would explain to him what our fishing was like. And more often than not, we’d become friends.
I understand that kind of identity, and the high-altitude perspective that makes it possible.
I moved to the Upper Sacramento River (when I could have moved almost anywhere) because it was clearly my home water, and while I can’t deny the itch to fish more exotic places (like the 25-minutes-away McCloud River), I can’t pretend my home water is anywhere but the Upper Sac.
Engle clearly understands this, and it’s an interesting take from someone making a living in an industry where distance is often equated with a bigger, manlier, more extreme experience.
And speaking of the industry, Engle also takes an oblique look at fly fishing tournaments, wondering at their true costs:
Right now, the fly-fishing industry, which seems to believe it is falling on hard times, is busy pushing televised fly-fishing competitions where the river being fished is hardly mentioned and all that counts is how many trout are caught. More and more, it seems like the only thing that is important in fly-fishing is what gear you use, how many fish you catch and how big they are.
I gave Engle’s Fishing Small Flies an excellent review (it’s jammed with real small fly information from someone who’s done it, and it’s far from a regurgitation of the things everyone already knows), and his long out-of-print Seasonal is a wonderful book about a life outdoors.
Only one chapter touches on fly fishing (a rehabilitative visit with John Gierach), but fly fishermen will likely find that chapter alone worth the price (and there are plenty of other great chapters wrapped around it).
See you on your home waters, Tom Chandler.
Technorati Tags: Ed Engle,fly fishing,fishing,home waters,south platte
Define “water”… and does the toxic brew that dampens my waders qualify, or must it be something you won’t blanch at drinking?
kbarton10(Quote)
I’d say home water is more a philosophical/theoretical abstract than a chemically defined constant, but yes — I feel that most would tend towards waters that don’t eat through your waders the first time out…
Tom Chandler(Quote)
Even though I’ve been in NY for a year and a half now, my home waters are about 900 miles away in northern Michigan.
I can’t deny that the thought to move back is always there. But there’s no work, and worse yet, no mountains.
I’m cursed
Day Tripper(Quote)
I caught my first fish in a small ranch meadow stream called Longcreek in Eastern Oregon. I think of Longcreek and the streams of the Blue Mountains as my spiritual home waters because of my childhood years spent fishing there and because when I’m there I’m at home. I’m in my place in the world. No other way to descibe it.
Greg(Quote)
Typically, I’m more fascinated by the “why” of home waters rather than the “where.”
Why is a river one man’s home water while it’s another’s “I’ll never go back.”
Luck? Happenstance? DNA?
Tom Chandler(Quote)
I would go with the “luck and DNA” angle. As you know, my “home” trout stream is Cosby Creek in Tennessee (even though it is 700 miles away, and I have “home” waters down here for the saltwater stuff, but that’s another story). Anyway, last summer I ran into a spin fisherman, the first fisherman of any type I’ve ever encountered there. He was obviously frustrated, and he asked me in an exasperated tone if there was any water around there deep enough to fish. I tried to explain to him that there was a lot of water in this little stream deep enough to hold fish, but that his rooster tail would probably scare the spots off the brookies, given that it was the peak of the drought in the Southeast and the water was very low. I tried to point him towards some larger streams, like Little River, where he would have a better chance with his rig…I don’t know that he bought into what I was saying – he probably left for home thinking there was no fishing to be had in the Smokies.
I don’t know of too many people, even those who live up there full time, who consider a small stream like Cosby “home”. You hear about all the big name streams, ones where the chance of a fish over 10 inches is realistic. That’s fine by me – for some reason, I love the claustrophobic conditions of a brookie stream…it’s probably some sort of flashback to my childhood, when clawing through briers and bushes was the only way to fish.
ijsouth(Quote)
Hi Im Dan aka Beaverkill and the South Branch of the Raritan is my Home Water (Literally since it is my front yard) but my heart is 2 hours away in the clear flowing Catskill Rivers..
Beaverkill(Quote)